


How to Fail at Doing Nothing

by Dragonsmaidan



Series: Ineffable Holiday Prompts [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsmaidan/pseuds/Dragonsmaidan
Summary: Crowley just wants to have a lazy day.  Aziraphale has other ideas.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Holiday Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564165
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5
Collections: An Ineffable Holiday 2019





	How to Fail at Doing Nothing

Crowley was glad they had gone for the cottage. His flat has been big enough, of course, but completely incompatible with Aziraphale’s sense of style. They had entertained the idea of adding living quarters to the bookshop, but both agreed that hadn’t felt right either. They weren’t sure London was still right for either of them. 

So, one night, when Aziraphale had mentioned he would love to live someplace they could see the stars; Crowley made it his mission to make that happen. 

He had spent the entire spring scouring every town near by searching for the perfect place. When those had yielded nothing he widened his search. It had been quite on accident that he had found the little cottage. He had been on his way to see a large manor house in the southern countryside when he somehow managed to get himself completely lost. Crowley knew, however, the second he saw it that it was the place he’d been searching for. 

They had moved in a week later and, with the exception of a few jaunts back to the bookshop, they had been here ever since.

Crowley stretched out on the sofa. He was wearing one of Aziraphale’s tartan sweaters and skin tight black leggings. He had big plans today, first he was going to lie here and do nothing. Then he was going to move to the front room and do nothing, then take a nice afternoon nap, and end the evening by doing more nothing. He just hadn’t decided where yet. 

Crowley was drifting off, well into hour two or three of doing nothing, (he had been too busy doing nothing to keep track) when he heard a loud crash come from the direction of the kitchen followed by a colorful sentence that was clearly intended to be a swear without actually containing any swear words. 

Crowley sighed and peeled himself off the sofa. “Angel?” 

He walked into the kitchen and stopped. “What are you doing?” His snake eyes roamed over the counter behind him, which was crammed full of baking supplies and ingredients, before moving to Aziraphale, taking in the tartan apron and multiple cookie sheets in his hands, which had been the source of the noise. 

“Oh no. Aziraphale, please, no.”

Aziraphale set the metal bakeware on the small kitchen table. “Why not?”

This wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation in the last six months. Crowley wasn’t one for food normally. He really only ate when he was with Aziraphale, but Aziraphale had been delighted to find the small kitchen and claimed he had always wanted to try and make the foods he enjoyed so much. 

There was only one snag. Aziraphale was a terrible cook. No matter how well he followed the recipe the food always came out awful. Crowley had a little bit of a higher success rate, but cooking seemed pointless to him when they could just get someone to do it for them. 

“‘Why not?’ Angel, do you not remember the sushi? The gravlax and dill sauce? You gave us both food poisoning.”

“Yes, all right, those were not my best performances.” 

Crowley put his hands on his hips and scoffed. 

“But,” Aziraphale continued. “That was cooking. This,” he gestured to the counter, ”Is baking. It’s completely different.”

“Tell that to the burnt brioche,” Crowley muttered. 

Aziraphale’s bottom lip trembled and Crowley crumbled. “Fine, but I’m helping you. You burned yourself last time and I won’t have it happen again.”

Crowley pulled the hair tie off his wrist and tied his hair back, he had been letting it grow again and was certain it would get in the way. He mentally said goodbye to his afternoon nap and grabbed his apron. 

—

The kitchen was a  _ complete nightmare _ . 

Crowley grinned as he surveyed the mess. The counter top was completely covered in bits of cookie dough, chocolate chips, and granules of sugar. They had somehow managed to get both flour and egg on the ceiling. The two of them were the worst. They both looked like they had run chest first into a snowbank, thanks to Crowley being a little overzealous when working the rolling pin, but they had done it and it had even been fun. Twelve perfectly round and soft chocolate chip cookies sat cooling on a rack on the kitchen table. 

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale who was beaming at their success. “You look ridiculous.”

Aziraphale brushed a strand of hair off Crowley’s face and a sprinkle of floor dusted the already covered floor. “So do you, my dear. I’m afraid those,” he gestured to Crowley’s leggings. “Are quite ruined.”

Crowley looked down at himself and made a face. “I’m going to change, angel, and as this was your idea, you get to clean up.”

Crowley came back to a spotless kitchen, in yet another stolen sweater and identical black leggings, his hair clean and flour free. 

“Better?” Aziraphale asked. He was also clean, but still wearing his tartan apron. 

“Loads. Shall we?” He nodded down at the cookies. 

“Together?” Aziraphale handed Crowley a cookie, who despite his help was prepared for the worst. 

“Together.” They both bit at the same time. Crowley’s eyes slid closed. These were actually edible, they were more than edible they were delicious. He let the taste wash over him. “Angel, you did it!”

Aziraphale smiled as he savored his cookie. “ _ We _ did it.”

Crowley blushed. Maybe he could schedule baking with his angel to his “do nothing” days more often. 

**Author's Note:**

> For day 6 and 7 of the ineffable holiday challenge.


End file.
